“What?” Darlene said.
“Oh, how you have forgotten,” Maw Maw said. “You loved Granny’s deviled eggs and said I should try and get her recipe.” She turned back to Sylvia and said, “it appears the apple did not fall far from the tree.”
Darlene nodded and said, “yeah, I guess I forgot about that.” She touched Maw Maw’s arm and added, “but Momma, I do think your deviled eggs are the best.”
“Can I help you make deviled eggs, Maw Maw?” Sylvia said.
“I have a better idea,” Maw Maw said. She glanced over at Darlene and said, “I think your Mommy has more than enough helpers in the kitchen, with all of her sisters here. So, I think you need to help me set up for Circle tonight. Would you like that?”
“Would I!” Sylvia said.
“Momma,” Darlene cautioned, “are you sure? Isn’t she a bit too young for that?”
“I’m not too young, Mommy,” Sylvia said. “I will be eleven in July!”
“See, Darlene,” Maw Maw said. “Sylvia says she is not too young. And you know what? She isn’t. Don’t you remember when you helped Granny set up for Circle the first time? How old were you then?”
“Well…,” Darlene said. “I don’t know…, it seems a bit—”
“—You were eight!” Maw Maw said. “And…, I then, like you now, said you were too young. It is hard, I know.”
“I guess you are right, Momma,” Darlene said. “I guess Sylvia is growing up.”
“She is,” Maw Maw said. “Growing up like a weed, too. Just look at how tall she’s getting.”
“Daddy said I should try out for basketball,” Sylvia said.
“So, how about it, Sweet Pea?” Maw Maw said. “Are you ready to go help me prepare for Circle?”
“You bet!”
Maw Maw looked down at her watch and said, “We need to hurry, though. Father Ted will be here soon, and we need to have everything all set up nice and pretty for him before he arrives.”
“OK!”
Sylvia and Maw Maw walked out the back door and into the yard. It was bustling with activity, a full-on celebration. On the left side of the yard, Joe and several of the other men (mostly his brothers) were standing around the barbeque pit laughing. Who knows what about, but it was probably some tale that ended with the line - “and that’s what she said.” As always, the joke wasn’t that funny, but a quick glance at the growing pile of crushed Pabst Blue Ribbon cans at their feet helped explain the level of hilarity. Warm cheap beer makes everything more amusing.
To their right, Sylvia spied an army of her aunts and cousins busily preparing the tables in the yard. Thick checkered plastic tablecloths were spread out on each and in the center of every table was a mason jar filled with water and containing a flowered Rhododendron branch. Spring in the mountains is a thing of pure beauty.
“Mmmm, the barbeque smells delicious, Joe,” Maw Maw said as they walked past the pit.
“Thanks, Maw Maw. I picked out the best of the litter myself.”
Maw Maw paused as she leaned over the fire pit and took in a deep breath. The thin grey smoke poured over her like one of the early morning fogs that crept over Black Mountain every dawn. She closed her eyes in delight and bathed in the aroma. “I see you selected the fattest one,” she said as she patted Joe’s cheek. “Good boy… Good boy…”
“Only the best for tonight,” Joe said.
Maw Maw asked, “Did you bring the—”
“—Got it right here,” Joe said as he smiled. He reached down by his feet, lifted up a weathered old leather bag and handed it to Maw Maw. “I stopped by Johnson Memorial Gardens myself last Friday and picked it up. I made sure everything was done just like you said.”
“And they had a fresh one?”
“Yup,” Joe said. “I saw it in the paper that morning. I had to wait in the woods, though. They had the service late, and there were a few stragglers that stayed behind.”
“There always are,” Maw Maw said as she shook her head. “But…, you came through, just like I knew you would. I always knew Darlene was the smartest of my daughters when she married you,” she said as she patted his cheek again.
“Hey!” Randy, one of Joe’s many brother-in-laws, said as he stepped forward and laughed. “You know, I’m standing right here.”
Maw Maw winked and said, “Well, your wife, Brandine, always was the pretty one, but, that girl never was that bright. I suppose I shouldn’t have dropped her on her head when she was a baby.”
“Maw Maw’s got your number, Randy,” one of the other men called out from behind as the whole group broke into laughter.
Maw Maw turned back to Sylvia and said, “you know, your Daddy here is a good man. A very good man. He always delivers in a pinch. So…, are you ready to get things set up?”
“I am,” Sylvia said.
“Randy,” Maw Maw said as she pointed over into the crowd of men. “Rustle me up a couple dozen of those Tiki Torches, will you?”
“Will do, Maw Maw.”
Sylvia followed her grandmother across the broad lawn of the backyard to the edge of the woods. At least fifty yards from the house, three card tables were set up adjacent to one another, forming an extended surface — like a banquet table. Over the top, a beautiful silk tablecloth had been spread, all purple and green, like the colors of a peacock.
“Isn’t it beautiful, Sylvia?” Maw Maw asked.
“It is,” Sylvia said. “It is the most beautiful tablecloth I have ever seen. What is it made of?”
“Silk and gold and all sorts of goodies,” Maw Maw said. “It has been in our family for many, many years. Each generation adding their own embellishment before handing it to the next.” She pointed at the edge to the silver tassels hanging down onto the grass. “See those?”
“Yes.”
“I made those myself when Granny gave it to me before she died. And no doubt, one day, your mother will make her own addition to this heirloom. Eventually, you too will make one.”
“Me?”
“Yep,” Maw Maw said. “Each generation stands on the shoulders of the one that proceeded it.”
“But I don’t know how to.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Maw Maw said. “Your mother will teach you, as I taught her. And speaking of teaching, let’s get one of your lessons started right now.” She passed the leather bag to Sylvia and said, “Now…, I want you to sprinkle this in a wide circle on the ground around the table. Make it big, though.”
Sylvia opened the bag and looked inside. She wrinkled her brow. She did not understand. It was just a bag of dirt — damp, black soil.
“Begin the circle near the woods. Start about six paces from the table.”
Sylvia paused and then said, “OK, Maw Maw.” She walked to the edge of the forest, dug her hand down into the bag and took out a fistful of soil. Methodically, she began sprinkling it onto the ground, leaving a thick trail of black on the bright green grass.
“Wonderful, Sylvia, wonderful!” Maw Maw said. “Now…,” she added as she pointed to the table, “keep it wide. And don’t dump so much at once. You gotta make it last.”
“OK, Maw Maw,” Sylvia said as she continued, arcing around the table as she faithfully deposited the entire contents of the bag onto the ground. When she was finished, she went back to stand by her grandmother. “Did I do OK?”
Maw Maw leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You did perfectly! I am so proud of you. It is a perfect circle.”
Randy walked up to them with the Tiki torches and said, “where do you want them, Maw Maw?”
“I need you to lay them out in two intersecting triangles, inside the circle. It needs to form a perfect, five-pointed star.”
“You got it,” he replied as he walked behind the table.
“Start at the top of the circle, OK?”
“OK.”
After a few minutes, and a couple of adjusting directions from Maw Maw, the torches were on the ground in their assigned spots.
“I bet it is going to be real pretty when they are lit,” Sylvia said.
“Oh, they are,” Maw Maw said. “Real pretty.”
Click… Click… Click…
Chapter 5
April 18th, 2017 - UVid Headquarters - Mountain View, California - 4:45 PM
“Take deep breaths,” Sylvia instructed. “Dig down deep into the pit of your stomach as you feel your lungs expand and the oxygen flows into your body.”
“Shew…., OK…, OK…,” Heather said as she gulped air into her throat. She was flat on her back, sprawled out on the floor in the Eye Bleach Lounge, the thick, soft carpeting surprisingly comfortable beneath her back. She was remarkably relaxed, and that was amazing, all things considered.
“Not too quickly, Heather,” Sylvia said. “You don’t want to hyperventilate. Slow your breathing and take long, deep breaths. One…, Two…, Three…”
“OK, but…,” Heather said. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I can’t stop seeing those—”
“—No, don’t think about them. Don’t get sidetracked. Don’t think about those kittens from the video. They are fine now, I’m sure of it. Just focus on your breathing,” Sylvia said. She watched as Heather, her face glistening with sweat and her brow twisted, finally slipped into the deepest end of her relaxing sequence. She was getting it now. Everything was registering, and her chest slowly rose and dropped as she exhaled long deep sighs.
“Yes, Heather, that is good…, just long deep breaths. In…., and out….”
“In…., out….,” Heather repeated as the words rolled off her tongue like velvet, her consciousness drip drip, dripping away.
“Good, good, you are doing just fine,” Sylvia said. “Now, you need to go back. Open your mind wide, go through the door and go back…, deep…., down….”
“Yessssss,” Heather said as she elongated the last letter into a sighing, yawning hiss. “I am going deep now. Deep…, Deep…, uh…, where am I now? I don’t recognize anything. Where are you sending —”
“—Now, as I count backward,” Sylvia interrupted, “you will feel the years flake away, one by one, just like peeling an onion. As each layer is removed, you go down…, down…, down…. and back in time. Ready?”
“Ready,” Heather said.
Sylvia began counting backward. “10…, 9…, 8…, 7…”
Heather’s breathing grew slower as the muscles in her face, arms, and legs released like a drawn bow slowly retracted. Her mascara stained cheeks were dry now, and as Sylvia counted down, Heather felt herself grow lighter, each digit called seemingly lifting her up off the floor. As Sylvia reached the number one, Heather’s stomach fluttered. It was both exhilarating and disconcerting, like the feeling you get at the top of a roller coaster and the car pauses, right on the precipice.
“Now Heather, open your mind’s eye and tell me what you see,” Sylvia said.
Heather complied, and a smile crept onto her lips. She was six years old again and standing in her Grandmother’s kitchen. She glanced around the room and nearly burst into an uncontrollable giggle fit. It was all so amazing. Directly in front of her was the old white gas stove she remembered her Grandmother using, the dials rusted and broken from years of cooking. To her right there was a high set of shelves. The bottom was stocked with spices and the middle contained knick-knacks, but on the very top, she saw her favorite thing of all — the forbidden blue and white cookie jar.
But better than all of this, on her left, sitting in a low-backed kitchen chair, was Nonny — her grandmother. A cup of coffee was in one hand and a lit Virginia Slim in the other, her green, threadbare housecoat wrapped tightly around her thick body. It had been so many years…, so many years.
“It…, I can’t believe it, it…,” Heather stuttered.
“Who is it, Heather?”
“It is Nonny! I haven’t seen her since I was a little girl. But…, she is—”
“—Don’t worry about that now, Heather,” Sylvia said. “Nonny is alive and well in your subconscious.”
“Incredible…, simply incredible!”
“Heather,” Nonny said. “Are you OK, baby? Do you want a cookie?”
“I do, Nonny!” Heather squealed. Her six-year-old-self emerging as easy as putting on an old, well-worn pair of slippers.
“Wonderful, baby, I thought you looked hungry,” Nonny said as she stood up and crushed her cigarette out in the tiny plaid beanbag ashtray sitting in her lap. “But first, I have to ask you a question.”
“Yes, Nonny?”
Nonny walked across the kitchen floor and stood in front of Heather. Reaching down with her soft, yet weathered and wrinkled right hand, she carefully brushed Heather’s bangs out of her eyes. “Have you been crying, girl?”
“I…, I have Nonny. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. But why? What has gotten you so upset?”
“I…, oh Nonny,” Heather said, her lower lip quivering as she burst into tears. “Those kittens. Those precious little kittens. Who would do such a terrible thing? Why? Why would someone set those little babies on—”
“—Shh…,” Nonny said as she pulled Heather forward and hugged her tight.
Heather sighed as she felt her Grandmother’s arms enfold her, and the sweet smell of her Jean Nate cologne, cheap bourbon, and cigarette smoke engulfed her. It was a scent she knew so well. It was the smell of Nonny and it instantly calmed her.
“There are some messed up people in this world, and they do some bad things,” Nonny said. “But…, that does not mean you have to worry about it.”
“But, I can’t stop—”
“—Or even think about it ever again! I am going to fix it up nice.”
“But how, Nonny?” Heather said. “I…, I can’t stop seeing them. I can’t stop hearing their pitiful little mews. They were clawing on the box, trying to get out, as the flames…, oh Nonny!” More tears flowed as Heather began sobbing uncontrollably.
“Heather,” Nonny said, “reach into your back pocket.”
Heather complied and felt something in her jeans pocket. She said, “What? What is—”
Nonny said, “Now, give it to me.”
Heather pulled her hand out and opened it. In her palm was a folded-up sheet of paper. She held it up and Nonny reached down, took it from her hand, unfolded it, and examined it.
“Disgusting! Absolutely disgusting! What monsters! Monsters!” Nonny exclaimed. She quickly refolded the paper and slid it into the side pocket of her housecoat. “But…, now we will make sure it doesn’t bother you anymore.” She asked, “Do you remember where Grandpa used to keep his coin collection?”
“Oh yes!” Heather said. “He never let me play with those.”
“No,” Nonny said with a laugh. “I am sure he did not.”
“He always kept them locked up tight and put away. Down in that big box in the basement, right?”
“Yes, it was,” Nonny said. “He used to call it his strong box, remember?”
“Yes, just like Captain Kidd.”
“Right,” Nonny said. “And, like Captain Kidd, he kept all his special valuables, things he didn’t ever want anyone to find, locked up inside that strong box down in the basement, behind the washer. And now…,” she added as she took the paper out and waved it in the air, “that is exactly where this is going to go. Locked up and put away, forever and ever and ever. Would you like that? Would you want to seal this away for good?”
“Oh, Nonny,” Heather said as tears began to stream down her cheeks again. “More than anything. I just cannot stop seeing… or hearing….”
“Enough of that, now,” Nonny said. She smiled, and added, “Nonny is going to make it all better. Follow me.”
Heather followed as Nonny walked to the far side of the kitchen and opened the door to the basement. The two walked down the rickety wooden steps, the sides littered with empty glass soda bottles waiting for the trip to the grocery store for the nickel deposit, grandpa’s work boots, stacks of old Life magaz
ines and other debris. Once in the basement, Heather was overwhelmed by the memories flooding into her mind. There was the old family Christmas tree. Artificial and made entirely of plastic, it looked like a series of bright green bottle brushes jammed into a painted brown metal pole. It was still decorated and covered in a translucent plastic bag, awaiting its seasonal debut. Nonny always liked to be efficient. Christmas decorating for her took no more than ten minutes every year, right after Thanksgiving dinner. Just a short haul up the stairs and with one pull on the bag — whoosh, Merry Christmas!
Heather glanced around the basement until she spied what she was looking for. There on the right side of the long narrow room was the washer and dryer placed against an unpainted brick wall. She watched intensely as Nonny walked over and carefully removed two loose bricks above the washer, reached inside the hole and pulled out a grey metal box.
“Here we go,” Nonny said as she opened the box and placed the folded-up paper inside beside the coins. “Exactly where Grandpa left it. Now, go and fetch me that chain,” she said as she pointed over to the other side of the basement. There, on top of some old newspapers and a large stack of McCall’s magazines, was a long rope of chain and three bicycle locks, all belonging to a bike that had long since been taken to the town dump. Heather brought them back and handed it to her grandmother.
Nonny took the chain and wrapped the metal box several times over, crisscrossing the chain over the box like a decorative ribbon tied on a carefully wrapped birthday present. Pulling the chain tight, she lined up the links on the chain and took the locks from Heather’s hand.
“I think three will do, don’t you?”
“Yes! It will stay nice and locked away now.”
Nonny nodded and winked as she closed the locks over the chains. Click… Click… Click…
“There we go,” Nonny said. “All safe and secure. So, how about we go back up to the kitchen and have that cookie?”
“Yay!” Heather exclaimed. “Oatmeal raisin?”
“Of course, and I even have some Mallomars.”
“Wheeee, my favorite.”
Back in the kitchen, Heather greedily devoured the cookie as Nonny watched on with a broad grin on her face. “Heather…,” she said.
Eye Bleach Page 7